"Goy! that's so, Jimmy. We're all glad to see you in Dover behaving of
yourself, Jim. Now don't give me any trouble this year, friend Jimmy.
Behave yourself, and be an honor to your good parents that I think so
much of. Oblige me, now!"
As they turned to cross the middle of the square, Clayton said:
"I'll have him at that whipping-post, hugging of it, one of these days."
"What is he?"
"A kidnapper down here in Sockum, and a bad one: a dangerous fellow,
too. I hear he says if I ever push him to the extremity of his
co-laborer, Joe Johnson--whom I sent to the post and then saved from
cropping--that he'll kill me. Goy!"--Mr. Clayton looked around a trifle
apprehensively--"I'm ready for him."
"Delaware kidnapping is a great institution," Custis said.
"It has an antiquity and extent you would hardly believe, friend Custis.
Long before our independence, in the year 1760, the statutes of Delaware
had to provide against it. Our laws have never permitted the domestic
slave-trade with other states."
The little place seemed to have a good society, and the beauty of the
young girls sitting at the doors or walking in the evening showed
something of the florid North Europe skins, Batavian eyes, and rotund
Dutch or Quaker figures.
As they returned to the public square, a room in the tavern, almost
brilliantly lighted for that day of candles, displayed its windows to
the gaze of Clayton, who exclaimed:
"Goy! that is surely John Randel, Junior.
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